


save the last dance

by lazyfish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Background Jemma Simmons/Daisy Johnson, Happy Ending, M/M, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 16:31:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17165387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: Fitz’s best friend is getting married, and despite his mum’s hints to the contrary, he’s not going to get into a relationship anytime soon. That is, until he meets his dance instructor…





	save the last dance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theclaravoyant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/gifts).



Jemma’s getting married. Fitz knew it would happen eventually - his best friend and her girlfriend have been dating for quite some time now, and Jemma’s always going on about how practical marriage is. That, and she wants a fairy tale wedding. It’s not something anyone would expect out of Jemma, since she’s normally practical to a fault. If she wants to act like a princess for a day, though, Fitz is hardly going to stop her.

Except… he needs to learn how to dance, because no wedding is complete without copious amounts of dancing. Jemma and Daisy had been so gracious as to schedule dancing lessons for their entire wedding party, so Fitz just has to show up and learn. He had tried to get out of it, insisting that his two left feet would just make his dancing partner miserable, but both the brides-to-be are forces of nature and he had lost the fight before it began.

So now he’s standing in the corner of the dance studio, trying desperately not to look out of place. As far as he can tell the instructor and her assistant are going around and pairing people off. The pairs seem rather random to Fitz, but perhaps there’s a method to their madness.

He’s much less convinced of that when the pairings are done and he’s still without a partner.

Fitz shifts nervously, wondering what’s going to happen to him. Maybe he’ll be sent home? That would actually be amenable, considering he has projects to return to. His hopes are dashed, though, when the instructor’s assistant bounces up to him. 

“Right then, I’m your partner since there’s no one else close to your height available.” Oh, height. Yes, that is a variable that should be considered when partnering people. Fitz feels rather foolish for not realizing it himself.

“Erm, great.” He doesn’t know what else to say. Jemma normally does the talking when they meet new people - she’s much more charming than he is. She’s too busy making moony eyes at Daisy, though, so Fitz is left adrift.

“I’m Hunter.” The man sticks out his hand, and Fitz has no choice but to take it. He tries not to be too intimidated by the size of Hunter’s biceps. Surely he couldn’t need that many muscles just to be a dance instructor’s assistant? It’s a little preposterous. (And a little distracting, but Fitz is certainly not going to focus on that.)

“You’re really a talkative one, aren’t you?” Hunter jokes as he tugs Fitz out of the corner and onto the dance floor. Fitz flushes slightly, stuttering while he searches for a response that doesn’t betray his embarrassment.

“It’s alright, mate. Bob’s always telling me I run my mouth too much, so at least you’re not going to talk over me.” His hazel eyes twinkle as he continues to tease Fitz, and Fitz’s blush only deepens. Dancing is already hard enough without being teased by someone who oozes charm and looks nothing short of a sculpture hand-crafted by the gods.

“Who’s Bob?” Fitz finally manages to spit out. 

Hunter cocks his head towards the small stage at the front. “Tall blonde, your dance instructor for the next six weeks.” Fitz gulps as he looks up at Bob, who is indeed very tall and very blonde. She looks just as much of a dancer as Hunter does; her body is all long, lithe muscle.

“Oh.” Fitz’s attempt at conversing is abysmal, but he’s saved by Bob calling everyone together to begin the lesson. She tells them how to place their hands, noting the differences between the positions of the leader and follower. Fitz gulps, unsure of which one he’s to be, since traditionally the man is the leader, and they’re both men.

“You can lead,” Hunter offers. “Since you’ll be leading whomever on the wedding night, I presume?”

“I, uh, don’t have a date for Jem’s wedding, actually,” Fitz admits, slightly embarrassed. What sort of person attends their best friend’s wedding without a date? He hadn’t wanted to hire someone, but he’s seriously reconsidering that. 

“Oh. Well, either way, you can lead.” Hunter then settles his hand on Fitz’s shoulder. Fitz has no choice but to put his hand on Hunter’s waist. Hunter shuffles forward a quarter step to put the proper amount of distance between them, and Fitz is thankful Jemma had suggested everyone chew peppermint gum before their dancing lesson.

Bob then goes over the basic steps. They’re deceptively simple, and Fitz knows that as soon as the music stops Hunter is going to be in immense amounts of pain when his toes inevitably get squashed. 

“You’re tensing up,” Hunter chastises, squeezing Fitz’s shoulder slightly. “I know it’s useless to tell you this, but relax.”

“I’m just worried about crushing your feet,” Fitz mutters.

“It will not be the first time I’ve been stepped on, and certainly not the last.” Hunter shrugs slightly. “Really, don’t worry about it. If you let every minor mess-up get to your head, then you’re never going to get to the point where you’re good.”

Fitz is a bit mad that it’s the truth. If he had stopped learning every time he didn’t understand something, then he never would have gotten out of primary school, let alone been able to finish his doctoral dissertation. He had never thought to apply the same concept to dancing - mostly because he’d never had a partner who was willing to let their toes get stepped on. Maybe being partnered with the instructor’s assistant had its perks.

When the music started and they were sent off to practice the basic steps, Fitz found that he actually didn’t mangle Hunter too badly. There were a few mishaps, of course, but only once did Hunter actually wince with pain. Fitz is surprised by how easily Hunter lets him lead, even though Fitz is vastly less experienced. He only needs to change the pressure of his hand on Hunter’s waist slightly for his partner to respond. It’s rather exhilarating, if he’s honest. 

Fitz never would’ve guessed that it would just take one dance lesson to change his entire opinion of dancing, but by the end he’s rather enamored with it. He’s slightly sweaty from the heat of the room and the exertion, but it feels  _ good _ .

“Great work tonight,” Hunter says when the lesson is finally over. “You’re much better when you get out of your head.” He flashes a smile so Fitz knows the comment isn’t meant to be critical, and Fitz smiles back.

“Thank you.” Fitz wants to say more, about how he wouldn’t have been able to do it without Hunter, but the man’s already trotting off to discuss something with Bob. Next week he’ll mention something, Fitz promises himself. Next week.

\---

Fitz is chuffed when he steps through the door to the dance studio and Hunter immediately makes his way over.

“Good evening, partner,” Hunter greets.

“Evening,” Fitz answers. 

“So, did you practice?”

“I did!” Jemma had been absolutely stunned when Fitz had suggested that they practice together, but it had been good. Even better, he had stepped on her even fewer times than he had stepped on Hunter. One week of practice was already making him a loads better dancer. Fitz almost couldn’t wait to see what he was like at the end of it all.

“Your toes might actually be safe this time,” Fitz says. His cheeks feel warm when Hunter chuckles. 

“If they’re not, I won’t hold it against you.” Hunter winks.

“I hope not,” Fitz answers. He rather likes bantering with Hunter, which is surprising. He doesn’t much like strangers, but the dancer is disarmingly charming. Fitz figures that’s how Hunter ended up with someone like Bob. Not that Hunter’s any less attractive than Bob is - he’s actually  _ very _ attractive. The biceps, Fitz thinks absently. The biceps definitely push him up a few points. 

Fitz is not able to focus on the biceps while he’s dancing, though. He still needs to pay attention to where his feet are, especially since they’re learning more steps today in addition to practicing the ones already in their repertoire. Fitz is more comfortable leading Hunter now than he was the week previous. He suspects it’s because he knows Hunter’s not going to bite him if Fitz makes a mistake.

(Fitz idly wonders if Hunter does bite, when asked, and promptly loses count.)

Jemma confronts him after their second dance lesson, which is never a good thing. Jemma’s the queen of asking Fitz uncomfortable questions. Even if those questions do need to be asked, they’re never fun.

“So, when are you going to ask him out?” Jemma asks without preamble.

“Who?” Fitz knows who Jemma’s talking about. Of course he knows who she’s talking about.

“ _ Hunter _ .” Jemma sounds absolutely exasperated by Fitz - which is fair. 

“Hunter’s dating Bob.” That’s Fitz’s first line of defense.

“Bob?” Jemma’s brow furrowed. 

“You know, the instructor?”

“Oh,  _ Bobbi _ .” Jemma laughs. “I think he’s the only one who calls her Bob, Fitz.”

Hunter and Bob - Bobbi - have since departed, so Fitz can’t dispute the veracity of that claim.

“Either way, I am not going to go after someone who’s taken,” Fitz sniffs. “And that’s assuming that Hunter even bats for my team.” Most American euphemisms were useless, but that one actually came in handy.

“Fitz, he’s a dance instructor. Of  _ course _ he’s gay.”

“That is stereotypical and you know it, Jemma Simmons!” Fitz snaps. 

“Fine. But Daisy says he’s not straight and you know her gaydar is the best.”

“Gaydars aren’t real,” Fitz mutters.  _ He _ certainly doesn’t have a gaydar, and he knows for a fact Jemma doesn’t either. Daisy had had to literally spell out ‘I AM GAY’ for Jemma to ask her on a date.

“Whatever you say, Fitz.” Jemma leaves to go talk with Daisy again, and Fitz rubs at the back of his neck. Even if Hunter isn’t dating Bobbi and he is, by some miracle, not straight, Fitz isn’t good at making the first move. He never has been, and never will be.

\---

“How did you meet Bobbi?” Fitz asks Hunter the next week as they’re dancing. (It’s a big accomplishment that he’s able to talk and dance at the same time, especially since he also doesn’t step on Hunter’s toes.)

“We met at a bar.” Hunter smirks. “I asked for the olives from her martini, since she wasn’t going to eat them.”

“How romantic.”

For the first time, it’s Hunter who loses his footing. “Romantic?” Hunter repeats, voice slightly strained.

“Well, you two are dating, aren’t you?”

“ _ Christ _ , no!” Hunter laughs. “I am a  _ homosexual _ , Leo Fitz. And Bob’s my best friend, so even if I wasn’t gay as anything, I wouldn’t want to date her. Ruins friendships, that does.”

Fitz is honest-to-goodness speechless. He had not been expecting Hunter to confirm his singledom and liking of men in the same breath. He turns his head down to look at his feet, which are much harder to wrangle than they had been a few moments before.

“...Fitz?” Hunter asks when the song ends. “Did I say something wrong?” Fitz supposes that Hunter knows he’s not a homophobe since his best friend is marrying another woman, but there’s still caution in the other man’s eyes that Fitz hates.

“No,” Fitz answers. “I, um, just… lost count.” It’s perhaps the worst lie he’s ever told, and he sees the hurt flash through Hunter’s eyes before he presses his lips together. Fitz  _ sees _ the moment Hunter retreats behind a wall, and he hates that he’s not socially adept enough to explain why he had been so weird about Hunter being gay.

“I can count for us,” Hunter announces, voice cool and professional. It’s far from the normal warmth and teasing Fitz has come to expect in the past two and a half lessons, and his stomach twists.

“One-two-three.” Hunter’s counting is the only thing that fills the awkward silence between them. The moment the lesson is over Hunter trots back up to the stage without so much as a goodbye, and Fitz sighs. He should’ve known that he was going to mess this up, too.

\---

The next two weeks are more of the same - minimal interaction and cool professionalism. Hunter’s mask never slips, not even once, and it’s… unnerving. 

Fitz knows that it’d be easy to fix this whole situation. It’s not like admitting that he’s into Hunter would be that hard. He’s done everything that he thought he could never do, from earning a PhD to learning how to dance! Practically everyone in this room knows that he’s gay, anyways, so it’s not like he’s doing anything too crazy.

But coming out is always scary. It’s always been scary and Fitz expects that unless the world changes in a big way, it’ll always be scary. Even people who seem tolerant could surprise you, and… and that’s  _ exactly _ what he did to Hunter and Fitz can’t even get through his mental argument for coming out without feeling guilty all over again.

The music stops for the last time, and Fitz opens his mouth to ask Hunter to stay. The words don’t make it out, though, and instead he’s forced to watch Hunter make his way to Bobbi without a backwards glance.

He needs a good Jemma Simmons talking-to, Fitz decides. When he gets to his bag he sends Jemma a text, and watches her from across the room as she receives it. Jemma turns to look at him, brow furrowed, and Fitz just gives her a pathetic little shrug. Jemma nods, though, which means that she’ll come over to his flat for Indian food and emotional support that he so desperately needs.

\---

By the time Jemma rings the doorbell to his flat Fitz has worked himself into a froth. The longer he looks at the situation from an objective lens the more idiotic he feels, but he just  _ can’t _ and he doesn’t know why. And next week is going to be his last chance, and Fitz doesn’t like working under pressure!

Jemma’s got her arms full of takeout bags when she makes her way into the flat. Fitz isn’t sure how they’re going to eat all of that food, but at least Jemma seems to understand the severity of the situation. Fitz doesn’t freak out about boys often - he can only remember one time he’s ever given Jemma this particular SOS - but when he does, it’s… well, it’s  _ this _ . Him, nearly vibrating out of his seat as Jemma serves them both curry and naan. She holds up her hand every time he tries to speak, making him finish eating at least one serving of curry before she lets him spill the beans.

“I said something stupid to Hunter and now he might think that I’m mad at him because he’s gay?” The words all blur together and his voice ticks up at the end so it sounds more like a question than a confession. Jemma stares at him, and then sighs.

“Leo. What is keeping you from telling him you like him?” Leave it to Jemma to get right to the heart of things.

“I, eh, don’t know.” He had his hangups about coming out, of course, but he’s also worried about something deeper. He  _ has _ to be worried about something more, because this is just ridiculous. 

“Alright…” Jemma chews on her lip. “Do you think it could have something to do with the way things ended for you the last time you were in a relationship?”

Fitz winces. He had considered that, but not nearly as much as he ought’ve. His ex-boyfriend is - well, pillock isn’t a strong enough word, but it’s the most polite one Fitz can think to say. And yes, maybe his first relationship with a man ending in such a horrible fashion had a little bit of an effect on Fitz’s willingness to get into relationships. 

Fitz can, of course, come out to Hunter without asking him out. It’s not ideal, since Fitz has spent the past five weeks mooning over hazel eyes and private smiles and Hunter’s amazing sense of humor, but it’s possible.

Or he could just get over himself, which he’s kind of hoping Jemma will tell him to do.

“The way I see it, you have two choices: tell him next week, or be content in letting him out of your life forever.”

Fitz almost chokes on his curry. That makes it sound even more final and more scary and -

And he knows what he needs to do.

\---

It is the day of reckoning. Fitz has spent the past week practicing his speech to Hunter more than his actual dance steps, but he finds that when the other man is standing in front of him, all the words fly out of his head.

“I’m sorry,” Fitz says when the music starts and he’s sure not to be overheard by anyone else.

“Nothing to apologize for.” Hunter still won’t look Fitz in the eyes.

“Obviously there is, or you wouldn’t be…” Fitz doesn’t know where the rest of his accusation is going.

“It’s fine,” Hunter snaps.

“It’s not!” Fitz stops dancing then, digging his heels in so Hunter can’t drag him into the next step. “I hurt you, and friends don’t hurt friends.” If nothing else, then he wants to be Hunter’s friends. 

The other couples have noticed he and Hunter have stopped dancing, but Fitz doesn’t care.

“I’m just confused, Fitz,” Hunter says, voice pitched low. 

“I freaked out because you were single and gay and cute, not just because you’re gay!” Fitz spits out. 

“...Oh.”

Fitz swears he spends more time blushing in the studio then he does with his face its normal hue. He decides they’ve spent more than enough time at a standstill, and tugs on Hunter so they can resume dancing. He can feel Bobbi’s eyes on them, and assumes she’s not the only one who’s curious as to what’s going to happen next.

What happens next is that Hunter switches the subject. Which is fine, if not a little confusing. Fitz is glad that he gets to talk to Hunter again, instead of spending the whole dance lesson in stilted silence.

However, as soon as the lesson is over, Hunter surprises Fitz by kissing the corner of his mouth gently. Fitz hopes that he’s reading the signal right. He turns his head just slightly so he can brush a kiss against Hunter’s lips, and lets out a breath of relief when Hunter doesn’t protest. 

They only have those two quick kisses before Bobbi clears her throat loudly, and Hunter is forced to return to her with a grimace - but not before giving Fitz his phone number.

\---

Is it crazy to bring his boyfriend of six months to his best friend’s wedding? Maybe. Everyone acts like it’s some sort of important relationship milestone, but Fitz doesn’t see it that way. He’s going to be with Hunter for a long time regardless of how many weddings he brings his boyfriend to.

“Enjoying the champagne?” Hunter whispers in Fitz’s ear, startling him.

“It’s good,” Fitz answers as Hunter twins his arms around his waist.

“What would I have to do to persuade you to put the champagne down and come dance with me?” Hunter kisses Fitz’s neck gently, and Fitz has a feeling his boyfriend knows  _ exactly _ what he’s doing.

“Well, first off, don’t do anything that’ll get us arrested for public indecency.” Fitz ducks away from Hunter’s warmth, turning to fix his boyfriend with a piercing gaze. “And secondly, make me a promise.”

“Anything, my dove.”

Fitz steps back to Hunter, pressing a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. “Promise me that no matter how many people you dance with, you’ll save the last dance for me.”

(How can Hunter say no to that?)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the AoS Rarepair Exchange 2018. :)


End file.
